


Classy

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:54:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21907054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Ignis sees something he likes.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 6
Kudos: 79





	Classy

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Generally speaking, Ignis doesn’t go for beefcakes. Sure, he likes a bit of muscle—he does, after all, require someone who can keep up with him, and he certainly keeps himself in good shape. But he doesn’t necessary need someone _made_ of muscle. He also enjoys a more delicate aesthetic—a casual blend of typical femininity and masculinity. It’s not that Ignis is _picky_ exactly; of course if he found the right person, he’s quite sure he’d pursue a relationship regardless of their looks. But as he rarely has time to do more than look, he may as well be discerning in that department. 

Usually, there isn’t much to look at inside Insomnia’s second largest downtown mall. It’s a busy shopping center perpetually full, so many people coming and going that they become one continues stream of sheep rather than individuals to ogle. So Ignis is quite surprised when he finds himself fixed to the spot outside the record store, unable to move, because of a behemoth across the way in a custom suit boutique, broad shoulders draped in a light floral pattern. Pink roses and lime green leaves litter the white fabric, stretched so taut over such hulking mass that the tailor seems to have trouble with their pins. The man’s back is turned to Ignis, which gives Ignis’ eyes a chance to stray down to the tight rear end firmly cupped in matching pants. 

An unhelpful thought wriggles into Ignis brain: _he could use a new suit._

He could also use the rest of his groceries on his list, and he should really hurry up and get on with it, because he has a council meeting later and needs to check in on the state of Noctis’ apartment first. Instead, he crosses the isle, bee-lining for the boutique, figuring he can at least get a closer look before he resumes his usual dreary, eye-candy-less life.

Except when he reaches the open doorway, he realizes that the dark brown hair bundled up in a messy bun is vaguely familiar. Dazed, Ignis steps forward and takes a chance. 

The older man behind the register in the far corner doesn’t so much as look at him. The tailor currently in motion does look over to tell him, “I’ll be with you in a minute, Sir.”

Ignis doesn’t answer, because he’s busy eyeing up Gladiolus in an absurdly tight floral suit. For once, there’s a shirt underneath the jacket—a salmon-coloured button up that’s actually fastened right to the high collar. He’s never seen Gladiolus so _well dressed_ outside of uniform.

It’s a bizarre feeling, because he’s seen Gladiolus’ rippling abs so much that he’s become desensitized to them, but somehow, Gladiolus in a full suit is more tantalizing than Gladiolus’ bare nipples. 

Gladiolus gives him a look of mild surprise, then explains, “Iris ordered me a suit. Not exactly my style, but...” He tries to shrug, but the fabric’s too restricting to complete the movement. Ignis gets the idea. He approves of Iris’ style. “Figure I’ll wear it once to make her happy.”

Ignis finds himself blurting, “You should wear it more often.”

Gladiolus frowns. He stares at Ignis, then slowly dons a little grin, and Ignis might be blushing, because he thinks he’s been caught. Gladiolus muses, “I guess if I was going to a nice restaurant, I’d have another occasion to wear it.”

Ignis hums in agreement. He tries to look at Gladiolus’ face, he really does. It amazes him how much more he likes the bulge in Gladiolus’ pants when its fighting floral print than black leather. 

Gladiolus gruffly coos, “You don’t know anyone that likes fine dining, do you?”

Normally, Ignis says no. He’s said no a dozen times. It’d be absurd to give any other answer. They work together. Their relationship should stay professional. Besides, Ignis can see Gladiolus’ attractive body sweating and panting without having to risk their friendship. 

Maybe there’s only one way to see Gladiolus suave and stylish. Maybe he wants that more than he ever realized. 

With a defeated sigh, Ignis agrees, “I suppose we could try one dinner.”

“Awesome, though we might have to split the bill,” Gladiolus chuckles. “I just lost a huge bet to Iris.”

Ignis rolls his eyes and leaves, but not before telling the tailor, “Please sell him a matching tie.”


End file.
